A Day Through Baarle (🇳🇱 🇧🇪) and Antwerp (🇧🇪)

Many people who visited the Antwerp railway station had unanimously agreed that it is one of the most beautiful railway stations, if not the most beautiful in Europe. Although I agree with them, it was not the best memory of Antwerp. Yes, I did go to Antwerp, because it was the closest “foreign” city from where I live. In Antwerp, I came across an elderly man standing alone at a crossroads, holding a physical map in his hand. The sight of him — so lost and isolated — disturbed me. In that moment, I felt empathy for him, but I quickly moved on. His situation made me think of the fears of getting old and lost — the fear I presume most of us have. Perhaps, he was searching for something (literally and metaphorically). It was a fleeting thought, but one that lingered in my mind as I continued on my journey.

Antwerp Central Station

But hold on, perhaps I jumped ahead a by a few hours. My journey didn’t actually begin here.

Earlier in the day, I started my trip from Delft, intending to visit Baarle and Antwerp. The morning journey was actually scary. Although I boarded a soothing silent coach by mistake the weather was foggy and snowy, and I could barely see anything outside. Even the train was late due to these weather conditions. I feared that the weather would ruin the day, but little did I predict the beautiful things that I would encounter.

When I reached Breda (where I had to switch from train to bus), and was waiting for the bus to Baarle, the sun’s first rays started pushing through the dense mist. I boarded bus 132, and the quiet ride gave me time to reflect on my travels so far. Breda was cute and charming, and I promised myself I’d return to explore it more. However, I was able to get a hold of the majestic view of the infamous and majestic “Our dear mother church” from the bus.

In the bus, I found myself playing with a child sitting a few rows ahead of me. He complained to his mom about me (I thought he was too young to convey information), and I pretended not to notice. I’m sure the mom was suspicious, but without evidence, she couldn’t accuse me of anything. As I looked out the window, I saw myself traveling through some unknown villages, lost in my thoughts. In this bus, there were only four passengers, including me, excluding the driver, and it felt like a library, a meditation hall, and a sanctuary, letting me immerse myself in my sea of thoughts. As we all would agree, it is extremely easy to get lost in one’s own thoughts and for some reason I concluded that life truly has a unique way of unfolding.

The bus with 4 passengers

By the time I reached Baarle, the fog had cleared, and the sun was shining brightly, though it was still freezing cold. It felt like the universe had rewarded me for my earlier worries.   Oh wait! Did I tell you what Baarle is?- you can imagine this village like a choco-chip cookie — like the chips embedded in the dough, Belgium is intricately woven into the Netherlands, creating a quirky and fragmented landscape. The borders are scattered across the streets (and even within houses), making it a place where two countries coexist in the most unusual way. I had fun showing this bizarre feature to my friends and family over video calls. I enjoyed some French fries (I mean, Belgian fries) with Belgian Mayonnaise (yes, they offered me to choose between Belgian and Dutch variants) and coffee while wandering around the town. Since buses from Baarle to Turnhout (the nearest Belgian train station) are rare on weekends, I had a bit of time to spend in the village.

Quirky Borders at Baarle

It was during my walk that I met a kind old man soaking up the sun outside his house. He greeted me in Dutch, and thanks to my Duolingo and Pimsleur lessons, I was able to greet him back with a “Goedendag, meneer (Good day, Sir)”. He asked about my journey in broken English and offered to make me coffee at his place. My instinct was to politely decline since we are told to be cautious about accepting food or drinks from strangers. Yet, later I regretted turning him down and wished I could’ve shared a cup of coffee with him. After all, it was just an exhibition of kindness and I would probably never meet this person again. That feeling lingered with me that night, and I regretted it in my dreams. Anyways, I told him good bye in Dutch left the place.

I caught the Lidl bus to Turnhout station, where I was the only passenger other than the driver. He greeted me warmly and welcomed me on board. After I got out at Turnhout station, I went to thank him, and it almost felt like he was waiting for me to do so as he was looking out through the window. He gave me a nod with a smile, and I waved at him before entering the station.

Turnhout station was tiny, and I quickly found a train heading to Antwerp (in fact that was the only train stationed there). While standing in line for tickets, a little girl in front of me was struggling with the ticket vending machine. She asked if I spoke Dutch, but my Dutch skills were limited to greetings (which I used in the conversation with the old man earlier), so I had to admit that I don’t. The girl seemed resigned to her fate with the machine. I called over a railway staff member to help, and though my intentions were selfish — I just didn’t want to miss the train as the next train was an hour later — she thanked me for helping.

Once I had my tickets, I boarded the train, only to find it wasn’t as impressive as I had imagined. In fact, it was far from impressive. The seats were cramped and uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the biggest shock of the day. The inspector came by and said, “Sir, this is first class, and you have a second-class ticket.” I could only imagine what second class must have been like, but really, it didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things — it was only an hour's journey. My ticket was checked and scanned twice, and I couldn't quite figure out why.

By the time I reached Antwerp Central around 2 PM, I was in awe of the station. As I mentioned, it was one of the most beautiful train as per “reviews”, with 24 platforms spread over four levels, showcasing incredible architecture. The echoes of footsteps from all those levels were a clear indication of the bustling activity, a stark contrast to the quiet, reflective bus rides I had earlier. I spent the next few hours walking through the city, starting with a Kumpir for lunch. Then, I visited the stunning main cathedral, the grote market, Het Steen, and the MAS Museum. From the top of the MAS Museum, I had a (free) panoramic view of the city, which was breathtaking. Antwerp is one of the major ports in Europe, and this fact made the panoramic view even beautiful.

Main Cathedral and MAS Museum, Antwerp

Walking around the city, I stumbled upon an interesting statue of four people climbing a building. Later, I walked to a spot following the crowd (without knowing where they are going) and ended up watching the sunset and snapped a picture that included a yacht, a bird, a plane, and the sun all in one frame. And this is when I ran into the lost old man with a map, where this blog began.

"Four people climbing" statue and sunset

For some reason, I could smell waffles almost everywhere in the city. I couldn’t tell if it was because they were sold on every corner or simply because of the "Belgian" name that accompanied them. I tried to get waffles to take away from a few shops, but the first one was too busy to accommodate my request and I received nothing but an apology from them. I got for a simple waffle from the second shop before heading back to the Antwerp Central Station.

Under the lights, Antwerp Station was even beautiful.

Thanks to the Stranger :-)

I sat at a local cafe, ordered a "small" French fry (which was too large to be called as small) and an iced tea to hydrate myself after the long day. I had some time to kill, so I did a little window shopping at C&A and Uniqlo. I also bought a Belgian souvenir fridge magnet and had a kind stranger take my photo in front of the station. I wandered through the diamond district, where diamond jewelry were displayed as casually as if they were nothing special.

Before I knew it, my train to Rotterdam was approaching. It was only 7:25, but I had already reached the platform. I was so happy to see the colors of an NS (Netherlands train) train that indicated I was returning home. The train was actually the 7:30 one, an hour before my scheduled train. I asked one of the staff members if I could board this earlier train with my 8:30 ticket. She smiled and said, “Well, usually no, but since you’re already here and look tired, you very well may.” I thanked her and gratefully boarded the train. In an hour, I was back at the Rotterdam Central, and grabbed a coffee (with my travel mug and received a sustainability refund).

As I made my way to the train to Delft, I passed the Rotterdam Tourist Help Center. They listed so many things and it almost felt like the city was asking me, “Why travel so far away when I’m right here?” We often overlook what’s close to us, don’t we?; I couldn’t help but smile and quietly promised, “I will visit soon.”

Back home, I reflected on the day — not just the crazy borders, the beautiful stations, or the panoramic views. It was the moments of human kindness and empathy that made it unforgettable: the old man who offered me coffee, the elderly man lost with his map, the kind woman who allowed me to board an earlier train. It was only a one-day journey but these moments will stay even long after the trip.

And that’s the magic of travel — it’s not just about where you go, but how the world leaves its mark on you. Travel allows us to cross more than just geographical borders; it also helps us navigate the internal ones, pushing us beyond our fears and comfort zones.

P.S.: Of course, I clicked a photo with one leg in each country!